


Damned If I Do Ya (Damned If I Don't)

by TheNumberFour



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura's also a nerd, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Lotor's a nerd, We are all nerds here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-06-14 02:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15378837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNumberFour/pseuds/TheNumberFour
Summary: It's Allura's last semester in college, and when she needs one easy free elective to meet the graduation requirement, what class would be easier than her own father's Altean Studies class? But a wrench may be thrown into Allura's plans in the form of Professor Alfor's pretentious, yet dashing, grad TA, who may serve to make the course a bit more complicated.





	1. A Goddamn Arms Race

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I've been so freaking excited to get this first chapter finished to share with you guys and I hope everyone likes it! I'd like to give a shout out to the Lotura Discord for being such an inspiration in so many ways. You guys are AWESOME!

Allura is late. It’s for her father’s class, but she knows she’s going to get there at five after nine at least. She is well aware that her father is a major stickler for punctuality. What better way to call attention to herself than being late on the first day of the semester? She slips into the lecture hall and takes a seat in the back, noting her father’s stern glare up at her. A few other students turn to look at the poor sap on the other end of Alfor’s frown, and Allura ducks her head down to hide her face.

Thankfully, Alfor doesn’t feel the need to call attention to her lateness. She’s a senior after all, and needs one free elective to graduate. What better option than the class she’d practically grown up in? She heaves a sigh before opening her notebook to doodle. Her father launches into his introductory lecture about the legendary city of Oriande and the origins of the Altean religion.

She’s heard this all before, thousands of times. Allura has sat in on Alfor’s lectures since she was a young child, and practically knows the material by heart. She hears a snort of what sounds like disgust come from two seats away, quiet enough not to disturb Alfor’s lecture, but loud enough to get her attention. Allura looks up from the doodle to glance over at the person who’d made the sound, expecting to see them sneering at some snoring student a few rows up, but instead, a pair of sapphire blue eyes is focused on her. Their owner is a dark-skinned boy, slightly older than Allura, with all of his long, pale white hair pulled back into a ponytail, save for a single stray lock in the front. And he was undoubtedly judging her for not even remotely paying attention to the lecture. 

So she doodles a large middle finger on the next page, definitely large enough for him to see, and gives him a pointed look when the drawing is finished.

He quirks his lips down into a frown, although she thinks she’s caught a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. It’s quickly replaced by another dark glower at her.

Allura begins doodling again, half-listening to her father speak at the front of the class. But when Alfor launches into a subject she’s never heard him cover before, she looks up, pencil stilling and bringing the line she’s drawing to an abrupt end.

“Oriande has been thought to be a legend for generations, and its existence has been debated for thousands of years. Recently, though, there has been evidence unearthed that may prove that the legendary city is, in fact, real.”

Allura snorts, muttering under her breath, “Like all the fake evidence that hack archaeologists have been trying to pass off for ages?”

The boy next to her raises his hand, and Alfor nods to him. “I believe this student has a question to share with the class, professor.” He says snidely, pointing the eraser of his mechanical pencil at Allura. Allura looked at the other student with wide eyes, mouthing _narc_ at him before raising her voice to address her father at the front of the lecture hall.

“Yes, fa- professor, I was simply wondering to myself if this evidence would be proven fake like all the rest presented in past years.”

“An excellent question, Miss Arus.” Alfor says, eliciting a few muted gasps from the rest of the students as they drew the connection between Professor Alfor Arus and his daughter. She wasn’t keen on students knowing their relation, and she couldn’t help the way her father addressed all of his students, but at least this snitch beside her knew who he’d just told off.

Alfor continues, “Perhaps my TA would like to field this one.” _His TA?_

“There has been an ancient relic found in Africa that is said to be the key to finding Oriande.” The boy sitting next to her, the _snitch_ , begins, in a remarkably smooth voice. If she wasn’t so pissed at him, it might have made her melt a little. The boy wasn’t physically unattractive in the slightest. “The carbon dating results show that this keystone is approximately as old as some of the oldest recovered Altean texts.” Ah yes, she recalled her father bringing this up several times in the past few weeks, but didn’t think much of it at the time. She certainly didn’t think that the stone meant finding the _mythical Oriande._

“Those texts themselves imply that Oriande is not a physical place. It’s been known as a place similar to a Christian heaven or a Norse Valhalla.” Allura points out. “It would be excellent to find a new Altean colony to be sure, but there is simply no way that it is Oriande.”

The TA scoffs, “The Altean text on the Stone translates to _directions_ to the lost city, though the landmarks they refer to are still being researched.”

How gullible was this guy? Allura fires back, “Have you ever wondered why none of the landmarks are recognizable? It’s because they’re all metaphorical! Obviously there is no mystical white lion guarding a gate of pure energy. It’s a tale akin to the pearly gates of Heaven guarded by St. Peter. Will you also be searching for Atlantis after you find Oriande?” The boy grits his teeth at this, preparing another verbal blow before Alfor speaks again.

“Perhaps,” Alfor interrupts, “you two would like to take this discussion outside so I may continue with my lecture?” Allura turns her gaze from the boy to take in her father’s expression. His smile is tight, and she could sense his mild disappointment in her behavior.

“But I –” Allura protests, and Alfor holds up a hand, motioning toward the door of the lecture hall. Allura stands, head down, and gathers her things. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the boy smile smugly at her, leaning back in his seat victoriously. That is, until Alfor says, “You too, Mr. Daibazaal.”

The class gasps again, learning that their TA for the semester was none other than Lotor Daibazaal, son of the university’s president, Zarkon Daibazaal.

The student’s smug smirk turns into a dismayed gape. He sighs, collects his own belongings, and follows Allura out into the hallway.

“You do realize that this is your fault entirely.” Allura says, dumping her bag on the floor and turning to face the boy. She finds herself staring directly into his chest and surprised to find that he is _tall._ Almost a whole head taller than she was. She looks up to meet his eyes.

“It’s my job to ensure that students pay attention to the lecture.” He says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I’ve paid attention to these lectures for all of my life. I know them all by heart by now.” She states, before remembering that the new content her father had breached today was incredibly recent. “Well, nearly,” She amends.

“Excuse me for not being aware that you are the daughter of this tenured professor.” The boy scoffs down at her. “The majority of students I come across haven’t been nearly as familiar with the subject material as you are.”

“Your father is the president of the school. Our fathers are best friends. Maybe you should know who I am.” She says. It’s not something she enjoys saying. Allura doesn’t like acting like an entitled princess, but since the boy before her is behaving like an entitled _prince_ , she feels the need to call on this persona that she doesn’t often use.

“I could say the same of you.” He says, extending a hand. “Allow me to remedy the situation. Lotor Daibazaal. Pleased to meet you.”

She curls her lips in a frown. Lotor thought it was acceptable to humiliate her in front of the entire class and then sweep it all under the rug with an “I didn’t know who you were” excuse? She is disgusted that he would humiliate just any student that way. She ignores his hand and picks up her belongings from the floor.

“Allura Arus.” She introduces herself coldly. “Do try to get your head out of those Oriande clouds and back to reality, where it’s generally frowned upon to be an arrogant know-it-all.” She doesn’t even take the time to assess his reaction before she shoulders her way past him and strides down the hall to the exit, head held high.


	2. Here We Are Now, Entertain Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout of chapter one on Lotor's end. AKA The Comedy Central Roast of Lotor, with special guests, Zethrid and Ezor. 
> 
> And then they have the audacity to force him to be social.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY DORKS ARE BACK IN TOWN. Enjoy the chapter!

“So what the _hell_ was that?” Zethrid asks Lotor the moment she and Ezor step into their shared apartment. Lotor doesn’t even look up, continuing to type away on his laptop.

“I assume you’re referring to Arus’s 9AM today?” He says, still focused on the paper he’s writing. Zethrid had been sitting toward the front of the room during his argument with Alfor Arus’s daughter. He could have sworn he’d seen her shaking her head desperately at him the moment he’d raised his hand, trying to tell him to cut out whatever nonsense he was planning.

Zethrid rolls her eyes and sits down on the couch, crossing her feet up on the coffee table. “Yeah, and I’d like to know _why_ in the world you’d think it would be a good idea to piss off the professor’s _smoking hot_ daughter.” Ezor marches over to his chair, and snaps his laptop closed. She would have surely pinched his fingers if his reflexes weren’t so quick.

Lotor frowns up at Ezor, reopens his laptop to save his document, and recloses his laptop. “In my defense, I did not know that she was his daughter at the time. And I don’t see what her looks have to do with this, ‘smoking hot’ or otherwise.” Ezor and Zethrid share a look that clearly says _he’s absolutely hopeless._

“They look exactly alike,” Ezor deadpans and flops down on the sofa, her legs draped over Zethrid’s lap, “and the only other person on this campus with flowing white hair is you. Unless your mom just somehow forgot to tell you about any long lost cousins that happen to be attending this school, the math is pretty easy there.”

“Nonetheless, she wasn’t paying attention to the lecture.” Lotor responds.

Zethrid groans. “See, this is your problem, Lotor. You use words like ‘nonetheless’ on a regular basis and tattle on students who aren’t paying attention in class.”

Lotor is indignant at her statement, pursing his lips and crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly. Just before he has a chance to ask exactly where the problem lay in that, Ezor cuts in.

“It’s a classic case of stick-up-the-ass syndrome. You _need_ to loosen up.”

Zethrid snorts, “He _needs_ to get _laid_.” Lotor sputters in shock as soon as Zethrid gets the sentence out. There’s no time for that nonsense! He has a thesis to finish and a class to TA, not to mention the other courses he is taking and _their_ assignments. There isn’t any more room on his full plate for frivolity.

“I most certainly do not!” He says, eyes wide with mortification.  Zethrid only shrugs as if to say, _I’m right and you know it._ “I have –”

“If you tell me you have a shit ton of stuff to do, you’re preaching to the choir.” Ezor says. “If I didn’t have Zethrid and she didn’t have me, I’m sure we’d collapse under the stress.” The larger girl gives her girlfriend’s legs an affectionate squeeze.

“Eugh, don’t remind me. Our walls are thin enough as it is.” Lotor says, his nose wrinkling in disgust. The rapid knocking of Ezor’s bed on their adjoining wall had awoken him far too many times.

“Oh, like hearing your pathetic, lonely masturbation is any better.” Zethrid replies, earning a giggle from Ezor and another sputtering fit from Lotor. “We’re taking you to a party, my dude. Tonight. Lambda Delta house.”

Lotor opens his mouth to protest just before Zethrid adds, “And if you try to bail because it’s a school night I’m going to smack you.” Lotor closes his mouth. From nowhere, Acxa enters and grabs Lotor by the arm.

“Let’s get you ready for this thing.” She says as she drags Lotor to his bedroom and throws open his closet doors.

By the time Axca’s done with him, he’s wearing dark jeans and a purple dress shirt with the top buttons unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair is loose and Acxa has forced him to remove his glasses and put contacts in.

Zethrid enters and gives Lotor a low wolf-whistle. “Lookin’ good!”

“Yeah!” Ezor agrees, “You almost look like you’re _not_ an uptight hardass.”

“I’m so flattered.” Lotor says dryly. He gives himself another once-over in the mirror. Acxa has done a marvelous job, he has to admit. He looks younger, similar to how he looked in his undergrad days. It’s been ages since he’s been to a party and he isn’t even remotely prepared for this one. He doesn’t remember how to act.

In an instant, a shot glass full of vodka is thrust in his face. It’s Narti, obviously sensing his unease with the whole situation. Narti was good at that kind of thing. She always somehow knew just how a person was feeling with one glance. He has never understood how she managed it, although he doubts the silent girl would ever tell him.  After giving Narti a thankful nod, he takes the glass and downs it, earning a whoop from Zethrid.

“Let’s get this over with.” Lotor says, sighing deeply as he feels the pit in his stomach harden with his anxiety.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The first thing Lotor sees when he walks into the frat house are two pairs of kids playing chicken. Or trying to. A small, short-haired girl with glasses on the shoulders of a husky brown-skinned boy used a broom handle to knock a lanky, tanned boy off the shoulders of his partner after the latter’s mop of a mullet fell into his eyes.

On the way down, the boy lets out an accusing, “KEITH, you didn’t even try!” There’s a loud thump when he flops down onto the hardwood floor.

They all stop and stare when Lotor and his friends walk in the front door, and then whoop and cheer again when Zethrid and Ezor scream simultaneously “I WANT IN!”

And suddenly it’s just Lotor, Acxa, and Narti. Or, well, Lotor notes as he turns to see just Acxa, not Narti. The girl is astonishingly quiet. She’s probably off to skulk in some dark corner somewhere, he figures.

“Acxa.” The boy with the mullet, evidently named Keith, greets Acxa..

“Keith.” She replies. Lotor is unsure whether or not these two are friends at all. Their greeting seemed cold, as does the look in both kids’ eyes. Or perhaps it was more of an indifferent greeting between acquaintances. Lotor can never tell with Acxa, who tends to keep her emotions on lock. Keith seems to be a kindred spirit to her in that regard.

“Oh _dude!_ ” The other boy leaps up from his position on the floor and slings his arm around Keith’s shoulders. Keith shrugs him off. “That’s the snitch!” He brazenly points at Lotor, who frowns. _Here we go._

“I take it you know Allura then.” Lotor states, as calmly as possible. He came here to “loosen up” not to deal with this issue for the second time today.

“Know her? I’m practically her boyfriend.” Lotor’s brow shoots upward at this before Keith steps in.

“No he’s not. Lance is delusional.” Keith says, earning a glare from Lance. “But if you do anything to upset Allura at this event, you’ll be removed. Just telling you now.”

“She’s _here_?” Lotor asks, sure that his very presence is injury enough for Allura Arus. The boys have set a spectacularly high bar asking him not to do anything to offend her.

“Yes.” Lance said. “And we’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

Lotor chuckles, looking straight down at the much shorter boy. “I’m positively quaking in my boots, fearsome warrior.” And with that, he turns on his heel and goes to search for the bar, leaving Axca behind to talk with Keith.

As he moves through the crush of people, Lotor sighs. Of course the problem he was trying to forget shows up to haunt him. Here he is, trying to relax, and possibly find a cute girl who will help him relieve some stress, and instead he’s at risk of finding a cute girl probably willing to tear him limb from limb on sight. All because he had to go and be a pretentious ass in front of the entire class. He turns a corner into a room where he sees people emerging with full Solo cups clutched in their unsteady hands. When Lotor darts to the left in order to avoid some drunken student’s beer sloshing over the brim of a red plastic cup, he rams into another body, immediately feeling a cold wetness spread over his torso.

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t –” Allura Arus says, halting in the middle of her sentence as she realizes who she’s just bumped into. Her hands freeze where they are placed. She had tried to mop up some of her spillage from the front of his shirt and now her fingertips were resting on his abdominal muscles. Lotor feels heat flood into his cheeks.

Allura yanks her hands away as soon as she realizes how awkward their position is.

“I suppose karma had it out for me for earlier.” Lotor says with a weak shrug.

Hopefully she didn’t decide to pour the remainder of her drink down his pants just for speaking to her at all.


	3. ‘Cause I Feel Like Dancing Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura's drunk brain has some opinions on Lotor AKA Allura gets thirstier and thirstier the more she drinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray! New chapter! Thank you all so much for the comments on the last few, and I'm sorry I'm megacrap at replying to them. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!

The feel of his firm abdominal muscles under her fingertips sends heat to her cheeks. Allura yanks her hands away from his torso, grabbing what’s left of her jungle juice from the table she’d hastily left it on.

Allura downs the remainder of her drink. She isn’t drunk enough to deal with Lotor right now. She notes that when she tilts her head back downward after she’s gulped down the drink, he is wearing a look of relief, probably thankful that she didn’t choose to pour the rest of it on him.

She roves her eyes over his frame, trying to figure out what to do about the large wet patch on his stomach. He watches her assess him, and she’s pleased to see that he’s a bit nervous about whatever she plans to do.

“Just- just a moment. Please wait here.” She leaves him, weaving through the crush of dancing people to grab another cup of jungle juice and then an additional one for Lotor. No doubt that’s what he’d come here for in the first place. He didn’t seem like the dancing type.

“Here,” She says when she returns, holding out the cup she’d gotten for him. “Now come on, I’m sure I can dig up a spare shirt for you.” Allura doesn’t wait for him to respond, instead choosing to grab his free wrist and drag him out of the room and to the stairs.

Pidge and Hunk wolf-whistle up to her when they see her guiding Lotor up the stairs behind her and she pauses momentarily to shoot a glare back in their direction.

Once they reach the top of the stairs, Allura pauses, trying to size Lotor up again.

“You’re too large for Lance’s shirts… Hunk’s are too wide… Keith’s are too short…” she murmurs. She notices his face flush at the assessment and pretends to ignore it. “Shiro’s should do,” she decides, and goes to knock on Shiro’s door.

He’s definitely in his room. Shiro doesn’t like parties, and instead of partaking, he holes himself up in his room to read. He’ll come down if he’s on drink duty or has any other fraternity responsibilities, but most of the time he hides out until it’s quiet again.

“Come in.” Shiro’s voice calls from the other side.

“I need a favor.” Allura says as she walks in, Lotor in tow. Shiro eyes the pair uneasily, his eyes coming to rest where she’s holding Lotor’s wrist.  

Allura sighs, practically throwing Lotor’s wrist away from her and taking another swig from her drink for good measure, “It’s nothing bad. Relax.” Shiro does.

“I accidentally ruined Lotor’s shirt. Could he possibly borrow one of yours?”

Shiro’s eyes dart over to where Lotor stands and then back to Allura. His expression is questioning. By now, their whole coed fraternity knows of Lotor’s stunt in her father’s class this morning. Shiro knows Lotor’s name, and knows that he’d upset his friend only hours earlier. Allura tries to convey that it’s fine, she’ll be done with this nonsense once she could replace the shirt she’d damaged.

“It’s actually quite alright.” Lotor says, a hint of uneasiness in his tone. He’s aware that he’s not well-liked in the Lambda Delta house. “I believe the punch has just about dried. I can try to get the stain out later.”

Allura looks back over at the mess on his stomach and she can tell he’s lying. The shirt clings to his body where it was wet and a large red stain has set in. He probably wasn’t comfortable borrowing clothes from someone who clearly disliked him.

“You can use one of my shirts.” Shiro surprises Allura by relenting to her request. Lotor’s attempt not to tread on Shiro’s toes must have been agreeable to Shiro. He gets up and grabs one off a hanger in his closet. It’s a navy blue, short-sleeved athletic shirt. Not too fancy.  Allura knew it would definitely stretch to fit Lotor.

“I barely use this one anymore. You even can keep it if you want.” Allura can tell that Shiro’s satisfied by Lotor’s cautiousness around her.

“I-uh-thank you.” Lotor said, catching the shirt when Shiro tosses it at him.

Shiro tugs on a jacket to protect his prosthetic arm from any handsy, drunk party guests. “I’ve gotta work the door now. If that shirt doesn’t end up fitting, let me know. I’ll dig up another one when I can.”

“Thanks again.” Lotor says, before Shiro leaves the two of them alone in his bedroom.

Allura turns to see Lotor’s shirt mostly-unbuttoned already and she flushes as she takes in his bared chest down to his navel. There are a few wisps of white hair on his chest, but not too much, and his abs are just as firm and toned as they’d felt through his shirt earlier.

When Allura catches herself staring, she pretends she’s only just noticed that he is disrobing in her presence. At this point, he’s gotten his own ruined shirt off and Shiro’s shirt halfway over his head, his torso on full display to her.

“Wh- _what are you doing?_ ”

Lotor looks at her, puzzled, once he’s gotten the shirt over his head. “Changing my shirt?”

“Here?” She squeaks, cheeks burning. She hopes they aren’t noticeably red. Couldn’t he have found a bathroom or something? Or at least given her some warning?

“You didn’t seem too concerned when you were ogling me moments ago.” Allura’s face heats even more than she thought possible at being caught.

She crosses her arms and turns her nose up at him, trying to ignore how nice the shirt makes his arms look as they cross over his own chest. _Damn him for being attractive_ , she thinks. She wishes his personality would match.

“I wasn’t _ogling.”_ She says, “I was simply astonished that you would disrobe in front of one of the _students_ in the class you teach. It’s unprofessional!” She gulps down more of her drink, deciding she’s too sober to be having this conversation. She winces internally, however, when she realizes that getting drunk wasn’t the most professional thing to do in this situation either. Though as the alcohol begins to cloud her mind, she can’t bring herself to worry too much about it.

Lotor snorts, “If you’re looking for professionalism, I don’t believe you’ll find it at a frat party.”

Allura huffs, grabbing his discarded shirt and gesturing for him to leave Shiro’s room. He follows her out, remembering to take his still-full drink cup from where he’d left it on Shiro’s bureau.

“I’ll get this shirt back to you in class. It’s the least I can do for spilling all over it.”

Lotor tries to snatch the shirt back. “Really, Allura, I’d say we’re even. I think I’ve caused you enough trouble for one day.”

“No, really,” she says, “I insist.”

He’s silent for a moment before releasing the shirt back into her possession. He takes a long swig of his own drink.

Her heart flutters a little as she watches his Adam’s apple bob with each gulp and her eyes trace up to the sharp curve of his jawline. Her sober brain makes futile attempts to reason with her. _He humiliated you in front of the entire class,_ it reminds her, _He humiliated you in front of your father. And that was only today._

Her drunk brain responds, _not all first impressions are perfect! Let’s see how it goes!_ And both her drunk and sober vision agree that Lotor is undeniably attractive, though her sober brain is loathe to admit it.

“Although,” she breaks the silence, the words coming out before she can stop them, “If you want to end the night off even, I wouldn’t say no to a dance.” He almost chokes on his drink.

Allura puts a hand to her mouth, mortified. “I’m sorry. Just… forget I said anything.” She says and turns to leave. He catches her by the elbow even though he’s still trying to regain his breath.

“I would love to dance with you, Allura.” Lotor tells her, voice raspy from his coughing fit.

They stand there for a moment, both wondering how to proceed from here. The obvious answer was to go downstairs to the dance floor. Instead, Lotor scratches at the back of his neck while Allura chews on her lower lip. Each of them is suddenly too shy to make the first move.

Allura’s drunk brain is getting impatient. Allura needs just a little push. Her attention diverts, as she catches the sound of an excellent dancing song starting up from downstairs.

“What are we waiting for then?” Allura says, giggling as she grabs his hand and pulls him down the stairs behind her. “I love this song!”


	4. It Started Out With A Kiss, How Did It End Up Like This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's safe to say that the morning after the party is full of surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was at something of a crossroads with this chapter. I had an entirely different idea for it when I went in, and now... well, you guys will see where that went soon enough. I'm a little worried that I may be pacing things a bit too quickly, but never fear! I have a plan! Thank you all for your reviews on the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one!

Lotor wakes slowly the next morning. His head pounds and his stomach is roiling. He doesn’t have class until five and office hours are at seven, so he has plenty of time to get his hungover shit together. There’s a warm sensation to his left, and he rolls over into it, pulling it closer to him and burying his face in it. He didn’t remember his pillow being heated… or firm… or lavender scented.

Lotor’s eyes open and the sudden brightness sends stabbing pain to his temple. A mop of soft white curls splay out over the pillows, which isn’t _that_ unusual a sight for Lotor. The most jarring thing about it is the person the hair belongs to. Allura is pressed up against his bare chest, sleeping peacefully next to him. He’s not wearing anything under the covers and from the looks of it, neither is she.

_Oh._

_Oh dear._

He takes a look around. He’s in his own room, so he’d somehow managed to convince Allura to come here last night. He can’t remember anything else. There are only flashes of memories. _The lights at the party, Allura twirling under his arm before pressing her palms to his chest._

Lotor tries his hardest not to wake her, both because he doesn’t want to deal with this issue _just_ yet, and because she looks positively angelic curled up against him. Her eyes are closed, long eyelashes still dark with leftover mascara. Her lips, still pink from worn-away lipstick, are parted ever so slightly, and Lotor can hear the faintest of snores. Glitter from her worn away makeup still clings to her eyelids and bare shoulders.

He gets flashes of memories from the night before.

 _The music’s bass pulses in Lotor’s ears. Or is it his heartbeat? Lotor is just so shocked that he’d gone from verbally warring with this girl to dancing with her that he can’t even place how his body is reacting._ _Allura’s hands are wrapped around his neck, and his are on her hips. He is a few drinks in, and Hunk had just come around with a tray of shots. Allura and Lotor gulp some down easily. Lotor lifts her up easily, spinning her around while “Shut Up and Dance” blasts in the background. She laughs hard, burying her face in his neck. In that moment, he is truly feeling that this woman is his destiny._

_It could have easily been due to the alcohol, but Lotor can’t really bring himself to care. He finds that he likes her smile. He hadn’t really given it much thought that morning during class, since she did nothing but glare at him the entire time, but now, her pearly teeth and wide, bright eyes are making him breathless._

_“I can’t believe we got off on such a terrible foot earlier.” She shouts over the din. He takes her hand, twirls her under his arm, and pulls her in closer._

_“I apologize for that, by the way.” He replies, “Sincerely.” He looks her in the eyes when he says it and she flushes in response._

How was it even possible that this girl even considered joining him last night at all?

That moment, her eyes flutter open. In one swift move, she squeals, gathers up all the blankets around her body, and flies off the bed to the corner of the room.

Lotor, now uncovered due to the lack of blankets, topples off the bed in shock as he scrambles to find his underwear.

“Where am I?” Allura asks accusingly.

“This is my apartment,” Lotor says, pulling on his boxer-briefs from the floor beside him before standing. Allura opens her mouth to respond, but Lotor answers the next question he knows she has, “And before you ask, I don’t know how we got here. I don’t recall much of anything past dancing, but it’s coming back in snippets.”

She appears to mull over this before asking her next question, “So did we…?”

 _He can remember the feel of her kiss in the darkness on the dance floor. “Havana” is playing and Lotor is drunkenly teaching her how to tango, or_ trying _to, before she reaches up, cradles his cheek, and pulls his face down to hers. It’s awkward, made sloppy by their collective drunkenness. Neither could bring themselves to care. Then things go blank. Sight is no longer a sense that he can call to memory after that. The sensation of skin on skin. The sound of his groans mingling with her soft pants of ecstasy. A burst of pleasure._

 “The evidence sure points to yes, doesn’t it?” Lotor says as he comes back to the present. He glances in a floor length mirror to his right and notes a hickey on his neck just below his jaw.

“One of us could have passed out before –”

“Oh? Do give me a little credit, Allura.” He cuts her off, attempting to lighten the situation with a joke, but she glares at him instead.

They hear three loud booms from the wall between his and Zethrid and Ezor’s room. “Yeah, you guys definitely banged.” Zethrid’s muffled voice comes through. Lotor peers into the trash can next to his bed. He sighs, when his eyes find what they’re searching for, thankful that he’d remembered protection in his intoxicated state. Allura’s head falls to her hands and she groans.

“I don’t… I don’t _do this_!” She says, the sound of her distressed voice muffled by her palms.

“Neither do I. At least, not anymore.” He says, trying to comfort her. She looks up at him questioningly. “My first undergraduate years were a bit wild.” He offers as an explanation. It doesn’t seems to help the situation any, and Lotor mentally berates himself for even sharing that detail.

He hands her the clothes she’d dropped on the floor the night before and she takes them silently. He pulls on his jeans and leaves her to get dressed in private.

“She accepted your apology, I take it.” Acxa says as soon as he steps out into the hall.

“Oh yeah.” Ezor answers for him, “And she accepted, and accepted, and accepted it even more.” Lotor’s face grows hot, and he’s partially jealous that they remember his escapades with Allura so much better than he can.

“Ezor and I had to move the bed to the other side of the room.” Zethrid chimes in. Lotor snorts, though his face is still beet red with embarrassment. “Thought you guys were gonna bust through the wall.”

“Whoever breathes one word of this nonsense to her will be removed from the lease.” He replies simply, walking to the kitchen to make two toasted bagels. The least he could do to make up for the shock of the morning was offer Allura some breakfast.

Once he has two perfectly toasted and buttered bagels in hand, he knocks on his bedroom door, making sure she’s decent. He peers in when he doesn’t hear an answer and finds that the room is empty. He’s mucked things up again. He leans his forehead on the wall, handing the spare bagel over to Narti who has appeared seemingly out of thin air to give his back a comforting rub.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

Around 2pm he gets a call from Alfor. His heart leaps into his throat. _Oh god, he knows I slept with his daughter and I’m going to get fired and he’ll fail me for my research project…_ The worried thoughts race through Lotor’s mind before he taps the green “Answer” icon.

“Lotor!” Alfor sounds far too cheerful to have learned that his assistant had spent a drunken night with his beloved daughter.

“Hello, sir, how are you today?” Lotor answers pleasantly, though he’s currently spinning around anxiously in his desk chair. He waits to hear the response he’s expecting, _not too well, Lotor, seeing as you_ fucked _my daughter last night. I intend to blackball you in the Altean research community for it and you’ll be stuck working for your father for the rest of your pathetic life._

“I’m quite well, thank you.” The real Alfor answers, “I’m actually calling to see if you’d be able to switch office hours with me this afternoon. Something came up in the keystone research that I need to attend to.” Lotor lets out a breath of relief, careful to keep it as quiet as possible to not draw Alfor’s suspicion.

“Of course, sir, I’d be happy to.”

“Excellent! Thank you so much!” Alfor says, before bidding him goodbye and hanging up.

Lotor rubs his temples, sighs, and tugs on a t-shirt before fumbling for his glasses on his bedside table.

The fresh air definitely does his hangover some good. The sunny weather doesn’t do his headache any favors, but the cool near-fall air is crisp and cold in his lungs. Without warning, he gets another flash from the night before.

_The night is chilly. It’s not too cold, but Allura doesn’t have a jacket on, clad only in a pink crop top and sky-blue denim shorts._

_“You’re sure my place is best?” Lotor asks. “We can always go back.”_

_“I’ll never hear the end of it from the others if you spend the night there. I prefer to let them wonder.” There’s a mischievous glint in her eye that sets his heart fluttering. She seems to notice his expression and pulls him down to her, giving him another languid kiss. “Besides,” She says, “I don’t doubt that you’ll be able to keep me warm on your own.”_

_He finishes off the beer he’d brought along and surprises her by picking her up and carrying her bridal style. She squeals when he does, throwing her arms around his neck._

_“Me neither.” He replies, growling more than anything else as he presses a hungry kiss to her lips._

Lotor comes back to the present, still trekking down the very same sidewalk the exchange in his memory had occurred on. He was sweating now, despite the cool weather he had previously noted. He uses the back of his jacket sleeve to mop the moisture from his brow. This girl was going to be the death of him.


	5. Haven’t You People Ever Heard Of Closing A Goddamn Door?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout of drunken escapades: Allura Edition.
> 
> Alternatively titled: Both these kids are awkward as hell and Alfor does nothing to help this situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a little bit since I've updated this! And man, was this a fun chapter to write! Hope you all enjoy it!

Allura showers as soon as she gets back to Lambda Delta. She can’t possibly destroy _all_ of the evidence that she’d spent a drunken night of passion with Lotor Daibazaal, her father’s assistant and the son of the school president, but she could damn well try.

“And where have _you_ been all night?” Lance asks after she’s dressed and down the stairs. “You weren’t here to help with cleanup.”

Hunk looks Allura over as she packs up her sandwich for lunch. “Hmm… freshly showered, bounce in step, hicky not quite covered by makeup…” Allura’s hand immediately goes to the area Hunk had pointed out, her eyes widening.

“Sounds like you got laid last night!” Pidge says in a sing-song tone as she enters the kitchen. “ _And_ it was the snitch if all the dancing and smooching is any indication.”

Allura presses her lips together and turns back to the roast beef sandwich she is constructing.

“Your silence is telling.” Hunk says. Allura continues to make her sandwich, ignoring her friends’ teasing. Memories are beginning to return as the drunken haze from the previous night clears. Anything else her friends say is drowned out.

 _She feels a certain euphoria when she kisses him. And he is_ good _at kissing. She presses him up against the wall, hands clasped together at the back of his neck. His hair is soft and silky and gorgeous, and so much like her own. He’s being careful not to touch anywhere inappropriate, keeping his hands stationary on her hips. He traces a thumb along the skin where the waistline of her shorts comes to an end and a delightful tingle runs down her spine._

_Taylor Swift croons in the background about feeling like sinking and drowning and dying as she looks into a pair of ocean blue eyes, and Allura can wholeheartedly relate._

_“Would you like to get out of here?” She says breathlessly after coming up for air. His blue eyes are lidded, pupils blown wide. She can feel evidence of his arousal when she pushes her body closer to his._

_“I’d rather like that, yes.”_

“Allura?” Lance waves a hand in front of her face.

She jumps, nearly smearing mayonnaise on her hand. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was just… thinking.”

“About that Daibazaal D?”

“Will you _shut it, Hunk!”_ Allura squeaks, mostly because what he’d said was so spot-on. Hunk and Pidge only respond with full-blown guffaws, while Lance is a bit quieter. Allura knows that he has had a crush on her for a while, but the two had aired their emotions over the summer and come to an understanding. Doesn’t mean Lance had to be happy that Allura had slept with another man, but she knew that he was trying at least.

“Hey Allura,” Pidge says, choking down her giggles, “I finished that book your dad lent me about Altean engineering. I don’t have time to get it back to him today. Do you mind bringing it to him for me?”

Allura pats down the plastic wrap she’d nestled her lunch in and turns to face the younger girl, hands on her hips. “You make fun of me for my escapades and now you’re asking me for favors?”

Pidge feigns confusion, tapping her chin thoughtfully with the book in question, which seemed to manifest out of thin air instead of from the messenger bag at Pidge’s side. “Is that not typical behavior around here?”

Allura groans and snatches the thick tome from her friend.

Pidge’s eyes gleam as she grins at Allura. “Thank you!” Allura purses her lips in a pout and shoves the book in her bag, heading out the back door of the fraternity house soon after.

The cool breeze helps drain the heat from her pink cheeks. She stands and waits for the campus shuttle, which, according to the schedule she’d pulled up on her phone, is due in about three minutes. She has three minutes to kill. Alone. Trying not to think about Lotor Daibazaal and the soreness she feels in numerous places on her body. One area in particular, she notes as she shifts from one leg to another, brings heat back to her cheeks.

And, she remembers, she still has to wash and return his stained shirt. She can’t just awkwardly _avoid_ him like she’d been planning on doing. She thought on it a little more. Alfor might be able to pass it along, though it would be rather strange to ask her father to return his assistant’s shirt. He would assume a great many things about it, even if she explained the truth of the situation. Alfor was just a romantic that way, though Allura wasn’t sure if that necessarily applied to his only daughter.

And though she was now… ambivalent toward Lotor, she didn’t want to risk her father finding out that they’d engaged in _relations_ of a most _inappropriate_ nature.

 _Her hair clings to the sweat on her forehead and shoulders and they’re so close that she can’t tell where her snow white locks end and his begin._ The memories hit like a freight train. She checks her phone for the time, and the bus is late. Of course. In her curiosity, she delves back in deeper, seeing where the memory leads.

_“Lotor,” She pants, and he rocks upward at the sound of her voice. His bed frame knocks against the wall with a violent crack. They’re loud, she realizes, and she stops, suddenly self-conscious._

_“They should still be at the party.” He says after noticing her stillness._

_“I know, but I’d rather not put a hole through – oof!” He swaps their positions with finesse, still maintaining the connection below. That one little tendril of hair hangs down between them, and the smile behind it is mischievous._

_“Nothing a little spackle can’t fix in the morning.” He grins down at her. She giggles, reaching up to wrap the lock of hair around her finger. With another roll of his hips, her hand clasps around it, pulling just a bit too hard._

_“Ah, guess I didn’t think that one through.” He chuckles through his grimace. She releases his hair with an apologetic look, hoping the kiss she pulls him down for can make up for that minor injury._

The hiss of the bus brakes pulls her back to the present, and she just knows it’s going to be a long day.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

The returning memories plague her throughout her first and only class of the day. She’s sweating so profusely that she has to excuse herself to the bathroom to blot her damp skin with a paper towel. It was going to be a massive nightmare to face her father like this.

 _Allura, are you quite alright, darling?_ He’d ask.

 _Yes, just fine, father. I’m a little distracted after having a full night of mind-blowing sex with your assistant. Did he ever put on his resume all the brilliant things he can do with his tongue?_ She shivers at the mere thought of that exchange. Allura thinks it best just to move on and never let it happen again. After splashing some cool water on her cheeks and blotting them dry once more, she heads back to her International Relations class.

Twenty restless minutes later, the class ends. Allura packs up her belongings and heads over to the History building, where her father’s office is located. The door is ajar, and she can’t hear the telltale murmurs of students discussing homework or papers, so she sees fit to enter unannounced.

She’s met with the very eyes that she’d been imagining all morning. His dark cobalt eyes widen at the sight of her and his eyebrows shoot skyward. His lips are parted, as if he’s about to say something. Allura speaks first.

“I, um, thought that these were my father’s office hours.” She says, probably looking equally as surprised as he does.

“They are.” Is all he says in reply, though she’s still waiting for an explanation as to where her father is. “Oh!” Lotor says, noting her expression, “He got caught up with some research.”

Of _course_ that keystone was to blame for this awkward predicament.

“I should probably just come back later then.” She says, taking a step backward out the office door.

“No!” Lotor says just a little too loudly, then clears his throat after realizing how overzealous he had sounded. “No, what I mean to say is that he should be finished in a couple minutes. You can… stay if you like.”

 _Drop off the book and leave._ _Drop off the book and leave. That’s all you need to do. You don’t really have to see Dad today._ Her mind pleads with her. And for some reason she refuses to listen. She gingerly takes a seat in a chair across Alfor’s desk, her hands clasped together. After a few moments spent twiddling her thumbs, she takes out her laptop to work on _something_ productive. _Something_ to help her better pretend she wasn’t seeing the sneaking glances Lotor was taking in her direction. _Something_ to prevent her from doing the same.

She still ends up casting glances his way and notes him chewing on his pencil before writing another sentence. His handwriting is rather nice, she notes, a fine, looping and regal script. And that draws her attention back to his long fingers. She averts her gaze to avoid the sight triggering more memories of the night before. Those fingers worked magic, she recalls, but she sticks her nose back in her laptop to try and avoid remembering. This is her father’s office and _definitely_ isn’t the right place to think about her sexual activities.

Her stomach grumbles and she remembers that she hasn’t yet eaten the sandwich she’d made this morning.

“Are you hungry?” Lotor asks. She expects him to be jeering at her bodily noises, but instead he seems concerned.

She answers his question by removing her sandwich from her bag and then its plastic wrapping.

“Oh.” He says, staring a moment longer and then returning to his work.

There are a few more beats of silence before he drops his pencil and looks up at her, chewing on his lip.

“I made you a bagel this morning.” He confesses. “Before you left.”

 _Oh god. Oh god, he’s talking about it_ , Allura frets. And all it takes is one shocked little intake of breath for Allura to start choking on the bite of sandwich she’d taken just before he’d started speaking.

Her attempts to get it out only serve to lodge it in her throat even more firmly.

Lotor lets out a decidedly uncharacteristic yelp at her reaction to his words, but doesn’t hesitate to come to Allura’s aid. He dashes to her side, helping her out of her chair and winding his strong arms around her abdomen. With a few quick pumps to her chest, the roast beef falls out of her mouth and to the floor with a disgusting plop.

And it’s that moment that Alfor chooses to walk in.

It’s not the best position. It’s rather suggestive, actually. Allura’s panting and red-faced, a thin sheen of sweat coating her forehead. She’s pressed flush against Lotor’s body, his arms far too close to her breasts to be appropriate.

Of course, Allura’s first instinct was to explain to her father _why_ they were in this position. She bends down to grab the half-chewed piece of roast beef from the floor before Lotor has a chance to release her. In doing so, her rear end moves backward, and into Lotor’s pelvis. The boy stumbles back at the hit he takes to his groin, finally releasing Allura.

Alfor stares for a moment, looking back and forth between his daughter, who’d straightened up clutching roast beef goop in her fingers, and his TA grimacing in pain while clutching the back of one of the chairs in front of Alfor’s desk.

The professor snorts, and then breaks out into full-blown laughter. “Zarkon would have an absolute hoot at this one.” He says through his guffaws.

Allura glances at Lotor at the mention of his father and sees that his frown has intensified.

Alfor continues, “I’m glad to see that you two are getting along better since yesterday’s lecture.” The two tense slightly. _Alfor didn’t know the half of it._ He regards his daughter and the slimy food she holds next, “Allura, dear, I understand you’ve been choking. You can toss that in the bin now.” She does. “I apologize for not telling you I’d switched my office hours. There was some pressing research that needed to be done on the keystone. Is there anything you needed to talk to me about?”

Allura’s response is raspy from choking only moments ago. “Oh, no. Pidge asked me to return that book she’d borrowed from you.” She digs through her bag to find the textbook Pidge had given her earlier.

“Perfect! I’ve been looking for this one everywhere!” Alfor exclaims. “Completely slipped my mind that I’d given her this.”

Allura chuckles, nervousness tinging the laugh, “You know Pidge! Quite the hoarder.” She grabs the leftovers of her sandwich and stuffs them in her bag. This situation needs to end immediately, and the best method Allura can think of is to just extract herself from it.

“I’d better go! Homework and projects and all that, you know.” She gives Lotor an awkward wave, for show, kisses her father on the cheek quickly, and darts out of the room.

Or tries to.

Alfor catches her quickly, before she can escape.

“No ‘thank you’ to Lotor for saving your life?” The red in Allura’s cheeks darkens, and envelops her entire face.

“Father, am I a child?”

“I should hope not.” Alfor says, then turns to Lotor. “Tell you what. In addition to the display of gratitude my daughter intends to show you in the next two minutes, I’d love to have you and your family over for dinner, as a thank you from me and Melenor.” Allura almost squeaks in protest, and schools her features the best she can, lest Alfor call her out for more rudeness.

“No, that’s alright, really.” Lotor replies. His face seems calm, but Allura can see his fingers twitching nervously, toying at the pockets of his jeans.

The same jeans he’d rushed to pull on this morning. Allura’s heart thrums a rapid staccato in her chest. She needs to be out of this room.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You saved my little girl from choking. And we’re both so grateful, right, Allura?” Alfor nudges her side.

“YES!” She blurts out, a bit too loudly. “Um, thank you… very much. I had quite a scare there.”

Lotor scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “Really, it’s fine, Allura.”

“Right then, I’ll be sure to make those plans with Zarkon.” Alfor says, finally satisfied with Allura’s behavior. “I can take over from here, Lotor. I’d say you’re both free to go.”

Allura finally is able to turn on her heel and speed walk down the hall, hoping Lotor isn’t feeling chatty enough to catch up with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment to tell me what you think!
> 
> Or you can come find me on tumblr to fangirl about Lotura and other stuff with me: TheNumberFour


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